


» somewhere to begin

by filzmonster



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Canon Divergent, Gen, Oz is oblivious, PH Secret Santa 2018, Raven is a coward, au-ish, but not that oblivious, i hope it still makes sense, pandoraheartssecretsanta, pandoraheartssecretsanta2018, the hardest part about this was to NOT let it escalate into a 20k words multi chapter fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 14:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17225822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filzmonster/pseuds/filzmonster
Summary: Oz steps into the mansion a moment too late. Zwei never spills Raven's secret.





	» somewhere to begin

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my secret santa gift for @kvgua over at tumblr for the Pandora Hearts secret santa event this year. I hope you like it! :)

» oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I’m getting old and I need something to rely on  
» so tell me when you’re gonna let me in. I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.  
» and if you have a minute why don’t we go talking about it somewhere only we know?  
» this could be the end of everything so why don’t we go somewhere only we know?

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The explosion rips the confession from his lips and Gilbert is left standing in the street, his hand still clutching the stiff fabric of his hat as he watches Oz skittering down the street, his heart a painful drum in his chest.

 Worry about Alice starts creeping in on him around the edges of his own, personal panic, and he knows he’s only got seconds until his own feet start dragging him after Oz and to that stupid rabbit’s rescue.

 Just – one more second. One last thought.

This was his chance and he’s thrown it away. He’s missed it and now … what?

He puts on his hat again and starts running.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Something is not adding up. The manor is old and crumbling and he remembers how shiny and new it was for his coming of age ceremony. Something must have happened, but he can’t think about that right now. Another gunshot is ringing in his ears, coming form inside that place Oz can’t really picture in his head anymore without thinking about darkness and falling and crimson red blood.

(Gil’s blood.)

He stops in front of the double-winged door, suddenly hesitating.

There’s definitely some noise coming from inside, but he can’t really make out anything specific except for another gunshot and laughter that sends shivers down his spine.

Alice next to him looks at him expectantly, and he can somehow feel the eagerness radiating off of her. She wants to barge in and fight and Oz feels the same itch underneath his own skin.

But Raven has said …

And the last time Oz has been in there …

He hesitates just a moment longer, just until he hears one more gunshot, and then a strangled cry.

The door flies open under Alice’ heavy kick and they stumble inside the strangest of scenes.

Raven is standing close to the stairs, surrounded by bodies and breathing heavily. There are thin lines of wire wrapped around his arms and legs and torso, bright red blood dripping down from tiny cuts, disappearing in the black of his coat but forever ruining his white shirt.

His eyes are big and bright and completely focused on the slim figure sitting on the banister, dressed in a long, crimson coat and clutching their right shoulder as blood spills out between their fingers – and there’s definitely too much _red_ in this room.

Oz swallows.

Raven hisses in anger as the figure mocks him with another albeit strained laugh, but before Raven can raise his gun again the figure jumps from the banister onto the windowsill and disappears.

With a long sigh Raven lowers his arm and turns around, his eyes clouded by pain and exhaustion and something sharper. … Hatred?

When he sees Oz and Alice standing in the doorway, he swallows.

“You were supposed to stay outside!”, he snaps and starts to untangle himself from the wire.

“Who do you think you are?”, Alice shoots back immediately. “I don’t have to listen to you!”

Raven rolls his eyes with an annoyed grunt, but he doesn’t keep up the argument and that is how Oz can tell that he really seems to be not _okay_.

“Raven … you … ?”, he starts but whatever he wanted to ask, he can’t find the words anymore. “Do you need help with that?”, he says instead and steps closer, already reaching out for Raven’s slightly trembling arm. “What happened in here?”

It’s only now that he sees the bodies – men and women, scattered on the floor, wearing what Oz thinks are Pandora uniforms.

Raven shoots him a strange look, then he shakes his head. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it”, he says and pulls his arm away, holstering his revolver before he reaches down and picks up his hat from the floor.

He looks around with weary eyes.

“You just met _Zwei_ ”, he explains. “She’s one of the Baskervilles. Her chain has the ability to wrap people up in that wire and then control their thoughts and movements.” He sighs again. “It was a trap and I fell for it like …”

He cuts himself short and shakes his head, visibly upset. “It doesn’t matter. She got way. Let’s start looking around for one of your memories.”

With that, he stalks around Alice and out through the door.

The tenseness between his shoulders sets off a tingle in Oz’ mind, but he can’t really place it. _There’s a history there_ , he thinks, but doesn’t dare to continue probing Raven for answers he apparently isn’t willing to give.

Without glancing back, he follows Raven and Alice out of that damned place and into the sunlight.

Maybe they’ll be more successful with that strange grave he found with Gil and Ada.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The unsteady but familiar rattling of a carriage wakes Oz from his doze, and two arguing voices keep his mind anchored in the reality that is different from the dream that still tingles in his thoughts – or was it a memory? There’s a weight pressed against his side, the soft curves of another, human body. Hair tickles his nose and the sensitive skin just under his chin, and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to figure out that Alice is leaning against him. He can hear her faint snoring and a content smile spreads across his lips.

The voices are still arguing and Oz fears that is he opens his eyes, he’ll interrupt them and then he’ll never know what they are arguing about. Also, it’s comfortably grey behind his eyelids and his mind feels fuzzy and he is still so, so tired. Surely just listening for a moment and then drifting back to sleep would be alright?

“So you still haven’t told him”, he can hear Break say, his voice easily distinguishable by that mocking tone it always seems to carry, no matter how serious the conversation is.

It takes a couple of seconds until there is a soft answer.

“No”, Raven almost whispers, his voice weak and trembling and utterly defeated.

“You can’t keep him in the dark forever”, Break chastises. “His uncle will want to see him as soon as he gets back from his business trip.”

“I know”, Raven hisses, visibly angry but also not wanting to raise his voice. “I just- There hasn’t been a good moment yet.”

Break chuckles, provocation dripping from every one of his words. “Hasn’t there? Or are you just missing them on purpose?”

Raven stays silent.

“You are such a coward, my little Raven”, Break teases after a while, but the malice has disappeared from his voice. He sounds almost … pitiful. His voice is soft when he adds: “It’ll only get worse the longer you wait.”

Someone takes a shaky breath. Raven clears his throat.

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

Break clicks his tongue. “Who are you really trying to protect here?”, he asks with a sudden urgency in his voice. “If you’re not careful, you’ll just hurt the both of you.”

After this, Oz wants to open his eyes and ask what this is about and who’s supposed to get hurt but then –

He’s been at the edge of the dream – no, the memory, but not his own memory, not really – for too long and his eyes won’t open and his lips won’t part and he’s drifted off to sleep again before he can even voice the appropriate question in his mind.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Oz wakes once more to the sight of Raven’s back, shielding him from whatever the world wants to throw at him while he’s asleep – and there’s a dramatic thought.

He blinks a couple of times until his vision is less blurry and more useful. It takes a couple of more seconds to grasp some sense of orientation. He’s lying on a hard but still comfortable couch. From his fetal position he can see the legs of a shabby wood table and an even shabbier floor.

This time, he’s not wrapped in Raven’s coat but in a thin cotton blanket that leaves a small, irritated itching where it touches his bare skin.

Raven is sitting next to his knees, a cigarette between his lips and a copy of the newspaper in his hands. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and Oz can see the sharp white of clean bandages wrapped around his arms and crawling up his throat from underneath his collar.

Even though there’s sunlight falling in from a window somewhere behind the couch, it’s not quite reaching Raven. He’s illuminated by that bizarre morning twilight that used to leave Oz’ fingers itching for a camera. Now he’s just glad that there’s any light at all.

He blinks and for a moment Raven’s figure wraps around itself, overlapping with another image, Gil sitting at the far end of Oz’ bed, red faced and absolutely mortified even though Oz has practically ordered him to sit there and wait until Oz is done with the page of some book he has been reading at the time.

He blinks again and the image is gone – and Raven doesn’t look embarrassed. He looks grumpy and melancholic and underneath that almost … timid.

Colours are a thing that interest Oz though, and he remembers the first thing he’s thought about Raven. _Black hair and golden eyes, just like Gil …_

The combination is stunning on Raven. His dark, pitch black curls framing his sharp face with his fair skin and his glistening golden eyes. Oz can’t help but wonder if Gil would grow up to be that handsome, too.

“Morning”, Oz says cheerily and sits up, glad to get rid of that itching blanket for good.

Raven looks up from the article he’s been reading and nods. He folds the paper and takes a drag on his cigarette before he answers.

“Good morning. I’m sorry for the uncomfortable sleeping arrangement, but I thought you’d want Alice to get the proper bed”, he explains with a blank expression.

It’s a little off-putting to see him without his coat or his scarf or his hat, as if the casual clothing doesn’t really fit him.

 _He’s made for some kind of uniform_ , Oz thinks. _Or at least something more formal. Maybe he is some kind of lower noble?_

“Where are we?”, he asks out loud instead.

Raven takes another drag and stands up. He walks around the couch under Oz’ curious gaze and opens the window.

Warm, fresh air floods the room and Oz takes a deep breath. He knees down on the couch and crosses his arms on the backrest.

“My apartment in Reveille. It’s not much, I know, but after what happened at the mansion Break thought it best to hide you somewhere that was definitely out of Pandora’s reach for a while. We caused quite a ruckus there.”

A faint smile tugs at Raven’s lips but it’s gone before Oz can truly recognize it as the sign of amusement it was.

Memories of the past hours flood Oz’ mind suddenly – the mansion, the run in with _Zwei_ , Raven’s barely suppressed anger afterwards, Alice’ memory that was hiding in the trees and … whatever that thing was that taunted Oz and tried to steal him away from Alice.

“What about Alice?”, Oz tries to keep his worry out of his voice. If something was wrong with her, surely Raven would have told him so the moment he awoke.

“She’s still sleeping in my bedroom”, Raven reassures him. He reaches out with his hand and for a moment it seems as if he wants to ruffle Oz’ hair but then he hesitates and lets his hand fall onto the backrest of the couch, next to Oz’ elbow.

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t have any injuries. My guess is that she’s just really tired from getting back another one of her memories. Plus, she didn’t get much sleep last night either.”

The picture of a delicate flower on bloodied cobblestone floods Oz’ mind and he pushes it away as fast as he can.

His eyes land on Raven’s arm instead, so close to Oz that he can see a faint shimmer of pink shimmering through the bandages. _He’s still bleeding …_

“You’re hurt”, he says softly. “I’m sorry.”

Raven pulls his arm away and shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“No”, Oz objects. “Alice and I should have been there to help you. We could have dealt with the Baskervilles together.”

Raven frowns deeply.

“The whole point was to protect you from the Baskervilles”, he points out calmly but with a stubborn undertone in his voice.

For a moment, Oz is taken aback, then he rests his chin on his hands.

“You’ve been doing that a lot since we met you. Protecting Alice and me.”

Raven simply shrugs. “It’s my job.”

_Says who?_

Something is keeping Oz from asking. He can’t exactly pinpoint what it is, though. It’s just not the right question to propose.

“How about … some mutual protection then?”, he suggests instead with a confident grin.

Raven blinks, puzzled, and chuckles lowly. “I should have expected something like that from you”, he mutters under his breath. Then he finally ruffles the top of Oz’ hair lightly.

“Mutual protection it is then”, he concedes, his eyes glistening warily and almost … touched.

Oz swallows hard under the severity he suddenly finds in those golden eyes – it’s almost the same as …

“I’ll make us some tea”, Raven suggests and heads off without waiting for a reply.

_He sure seems awfully familiar._

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

They spend two days hiding at Raven’s apartment. Most of it is quiet and peaceful, with the occasional banter between Alice and Raven, the two of them being quick tempered and easily provoked by each other’s verbal jabs.

Oz doesn’t mind, though. It’s quite funny to watch and a welcome distraction from the fact that there is not much else to do in Raven’s apartment. He’s admitted that he’s not much of a reader, and other than some cheesy romance novel that Raven swears was a gift from Lady Sharon he doesn’t own any interesting books (Oz flips through a couple of cookbooks but he never gets far because apparently Alice is not capable of looking at pictures of food without getting hungry).

So after he finishes Sharon’s romance novel on the first day, Oz spends most of his time playing cards with Alice or watching Raven cook or looking out of the small window in the living room, imagining what life for the people on the street must be like – what kind of darkness they have escaped from.

It’s a pleasant way of spending his time, he finds. He rather enjoys Alice’ company, and even though Raven is a little bit withdrawn, he seems content in his own quietness. Sometimes it even feels like he’s keeping himself at a distance by purpose. Not because he’s shy (even though he seems to be just a little bit) and not because he’s rude (even though he can be grumpy, especially before his morning coffee). Sometimes it seems as if he wants to say something, make a joke or be a part of whatever shenanigans Oz and Alice are getting into – but he always stops himself. As if he is fighting an inner battle that he keeps losing every time.

It brings up the memory of his first weeks with Gil, when his friend had to learn how to fall into place with Oz and Ada and Uncle Oscar and Mrs. Kate and – He stops himself from going further down this rabbit hole. The aching in his chest doesn’t go away until later that day, when Alice sits down next to him and asks him about something mundane.

(“Why do people light candles? Doesn’t that burn them?”)

On the second day, Raven comes back from getting groceries and throws something into Oz’ lap.

Oz, who has been sitting on the couch with the newspaper and a cup of tea on the table, stares at him with wide eyes. He looks at the book in his lap and back at Raven, surprised to see him looking back with a weirdly eager expression – as if he waits, _needs_ a specific reaction.

The book in Oz’ lap is an old and tattered copy of the first volume in the _Holy Knight_ series.

“I’ve heard it’s a popular series”, Raven says his with a rough voice, as if the words are somehow causing him pain. “So I thought you might like it. Sorry it’s so battered, I found it in an antique store.”

Oz swallows hard. He doesn’t understand exactly what he feels – this seems somehow important. But it’s just a used copy of a book he (admittedly, really, really) likes, and Raven has probably only bought this out of sheer self-preservation because he won’t be able to stand another day of Oz judging his cooking skills. Still … it’s a nice gesture and the book in his hands feels old and familiar and like _home_.

“Thank you”, Oz says softly and at a sudden loss for words.

Raven blushes, a reaction to gratefulness Oz knows very well.

Gil blushes, too, every time Oz thanks him for something. But then again, Gil is a lot more openly emotional than Raven is. He’s enthusiastic and passionate and just a tad dramatic. Raven is reserved and stoic, albeit choleric, and while Gil has never had any problems with openly showing how he feels, Raven seems almost embarrassed by his emotions.

Finally, Raven simply shrugs it off and disappears into the kitchen to make breakfast. Alice will be awake any time now and then she’ll demand meat in her loud, endearing honesty.

Oz turns the book over in his hands without opening it. He feels a bit guilty that Raven has spent money on it, since Oz technically already owns three different copies of this exact book (including a very rare special collector’s edition), but it’s not the main thing that’s bothering him. When he can’t figure it out, he opens the book with a sigh and starts reading.

He’s reached chapter fifteen when he suddenly remembers the look Raven gave him earlier. Like he expected a certain reaction (one that Oz isn’t quite sure he’s given) or wanted Oz to say something specific. Like he expected something to happen.

After this has crossed his mind, Oz catches him looking at him with that weird expression other times throughout the day.

Something is hanging in the air between them, Oz realises, a question. And Raven keeps waiting for Oz to ask, but Oz can’t exactly figure out what it is he’s supposed to _ask for_.

On the third day, Oz has finished _Holy Knight_. Luckily for him, it’s the day Break decides to show up right before breakfast.

Which is when it becomes apparent that Raven is utterly _pissed_ at him for _using Oz as bait_ and _provoking the Baskervilles_ like that and for being _a careless jerk in general_ when it comes to his subordinates. Something tells Oz that Raven is not just talking about this recent incident when it comes to that last point. He wonders how long Raven’s spent working for Xerxes Break and how enervating that must have really been.

He is also pretty sure that the only reason Raven is getting so upset about this is because he’s getting all worked up about Oz being needlessly put in danger – and this surprises him more than anything else he’s noticed about Raven so far.

Although Raven is awfully quick tempered and easy to get a rise out of, he usually doesn’t keep up an argument for long. He snaps and then he moves on. But this rant about Break’s _unacceptable behaviour_ has been going on for a couple of minutes now and Oz is pretty sure that Break will just tease Raven with some stupid comment and then proceed being exactly the kind of jerk Raven’s calling him out for being just now – it’s still fun to watch. It also reminds Oz of Gil, who is a crybaby and never breaks the rules or raises his voice or looks for a confrontation – except for when Oz is involved.

It’s strange how much Raven already cares about him. (Even though it didn’t take Gil more than a couple of weeks, too.)

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

After Break’s impromptu visit Oz and Alice accompany Raven on his grocery trip for dinner.

It was Oz who had insisted on going with him because after three days holed up in that comfortable but small apartment (and after Break’s strange, haunting question that Oz doesn’t even _understand_ ) he needs some fresh air and _space to breathe_.

(He does his best to ignore the stinging pain in his chest, an echo of the seal counting down his hours in the light.)

Reveille isn’t a big town, but it’s friendly as long as you’re staying on the main roads. The streets are filled with a busy collection of people, noblemen keeping to the richer and more expensive corners while housewives and lower class men and women take advantage of the late noon hours to get cheap prices at the farmers’ market.

Raven is determined and stoic, he knows his way around the different market stalls with a calm expertise – that is, until Alice demands some pre-prepared meat and even goes as far as to physically threaten the merchant. After some quick but aggressive banter, Raven concedes and follows Alice to the stall that has piqued her interest. However, when he realises that Oz isn’t coming with them, he immediately stops and turns around.

He opens his mouth to say something but Oz beats him to it.

“I’m fine. I’ll just wait here.”

For a moment it seems like Raven would object, but then he sighs and nods slowly.

“Are you … upset about what Break said?”, he asks sympathetically. “Don’t worry too much about it. That man is a mystery. He says stuff like that all the time and most of it doesn’t make sense!”, Raven dives head first into a passionate rant.

Oz interrupts him with a wave of his hand. “It’s fine, really. But you better hurry or Alice will have killed that poor merchant before you arrive there.”

Raven is visibly torn between reassuring Oz once more and stopping Alice from taking apart the entire market. In the end, he shakes his head in resignation. Then he takes off his hat and plants it onto Oz’ head, before he turns around and runs off.

Oz looks after him, his hands pulling down the hat further down over his forehead.

He somehow knows exactly what Raven wants to tell him with that.

Because Raven takes care of them without really showing that he’s doing so. But he still is. He’s quick tempered, yes, but also _kind,_ even though he’s trying his best to keep that hidden behind an angry and bad tempered exterior.

_That man has too many facets. Like a stained-glass window. I can’t see inside._

Later, when Oz is struggling against Raven’s grip even though he can already feel the burning pain in his chest caused by Alice’ rampaging power fade, he can’t help the question tumbling from his lips.

“Why did you shoot him?! Raven, why did you … ?!”, he sobs until his voice breaks just like the promise he made to Phillipe.

It’s only after this that he really hears Raven’s answer. “Oz, I didn’t shoot him. _It wasn’t me_!”, he keeps insisting, over and over again because Oz is still struggling, still protesting, still desperately not wanting it to be true – Phillipe’s father can’t be dead, but he is and Raven is looking at Oz almost as desperately, his eyes clouded by a frantic urgency.

Oz doesn’t have time to see the words as what they are – a sharp prayer that Oz will believe him, will believe him that Raven didn’t go against Oz’ demand, that he didn’t betray him like that. He’s soaking wet and there’s blood everywhere and Alice is hurt and Oz is hurt and Echo is in the company of a strange man and Phillipe’s father is dead. Oz has broken his promise, that’s the only thing that matters. The only thing that truly reaches him.

It’s on the carriage ride back to whatever place Raven deems safe – and after the name _Nightray_ has been mentioned a couple of times, muttered with Raven’s low voice and spoken clearly with the stranger’s almost flirtatious murmur – that Oz remembers the despair in Raven’s self-proclaimed innocence.

_Why was it so important to him that I know that?_

It’s the right question, Oz knows, but he doesn’t care enough to ask.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Alone.

It’s a feeling Oz could never quite leave behind. It’s what Phillipe must be feeling right now, alone in an empty apartment while Oz is snuggled up in front of a burning fireplace, Alice leaning against his back and surprising him as always with her honesty and intuitive compassion.

As soon as they arrived back at the Rainsworth mansion, Raven has shown them to a section of connected rooms and then left, probably because he doesn’t know how to handle the aftermath of Oz’ little temper tantrum. (Not that Oz blames him for leaving.) A moment later a servant has brought them towels, then they’ve been left alone.

Oz is only slowly coming back from whatever deeply shaken state he’s been in for the past couple of hours. It’s taking him a long time, he knows that, but he doesn’t know how to _hurry up_. Alice’ presence is helping, though, because she can see everything from a more distant stance.

“That man … I wonder who that was”, she suddenly says to no one in particular. She must be talking about the blonde man, the one who knew Raven and Echo-chan and lent them his carriage. Oz still doesn’t really care about him, but he is surprised that _Alice_ cares about him enough to have an opinion.

“Something about him felt … strange. I don’t think I like him, even though I don’t really know him.”

“His name is Vincent”, a rough voice suddenly says.

Oz turns around. Raven has entered the suite unnoticed, a towel wrapped around his shoulders and a tray with three cups of tea in his hands.

He walks over to where Oz and Alice are on the floor and Oz can see the need to mention how inappropriately close they are sitting next to each other on his face. In the end, he just bites his lip and hands them their tea, then he sits down on a chair across from them.

Oz takes a tentative sip of his tea and blinks surprised. It’s a strong brew, sweetened with a lot of sugar and no milk added.

“That’s exactly how I like to drink my tea.”

Raven looks up from his own cup and smiles mildly. “Is it?”

His eyes are more tired than usual, as if he has lost a battle recently and is now struggling to get back on his feet.

“Vincent …”, he repeats himself, and then takes a deep breath. “Vincent Nightray.”

Oz’ heart misses a beat. Suddenly it makes sense that this name was uttered in the carriage and why Raven insisted on not going there but to the Rainsworth mansion instead.

“I’ve never heard of a _Vincent_ Nightray”, Oz says, letting his confusion soak into his voice. He was taught about the society he would grow up into. He _knows_ about everything that has been going on between the Nightrays and his own family, and he always thought he knew every single one of them – at least by name.

Raven sighs. “No, of course not”, he says, more to himself. “Vincent was … _we_ were adopted.”

He looks up and directly into Oz’ eyes. “He’s my brother.”

It’s not quite a challenge, but more of a dare. _This is who I am_ , Raven seems to say. _Is that a problem for you?_

Oz swallows, carefully controlling the emotions on his face. “I didn’t know they adopted someone.”

If the reaction surprises him, Raven doesn’t show it. “It was a long time ago.”

He looks into the distance for a moment and then shakes his head as if to get rid of a memory. He seems hesitant, like he’s testing the water before going in deeper. But then he simply shrugs.

“Like all of the four great dukedoms, the Nightrays own a door to the Abyss”, he explains and takes another sip of his tea. “These doors are protected by black winged chains with the power to build a direct connection to the Abyss. Pandora uses these doors to let their employees form what they call ‘legal contracts’. I wanted a chance to form a contract with the Nightray’s chain, Raven. So I let myself be adopted by them.”

The story isn’t quite adding up yet, but before Oz can voice his suspicion, Alice interrupts with a crude laugh.

“Your name is Raven and you made a contract with a chain named _Raven_?”, she giggles.

Raven shoots her an annoyed look, but there’s a smile tagging at the corner of his lips and Oz _knows_ that smile, somehow.

“Raven is obviously not my real name. It’s Pandora tradition that you are nicknamed after the chain you form a contract with, so … now everyone just calls me Raven.” There’s a tiny hint of pain in his eyes, as if he misses his real name but would never ask anyone to use it again, now that he’s become someone else.

“Why did you want that particular chain?”, Oz asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

Raven smiles sadly. “I wanted to get something back.”

“And did you?”, Oz keeps persisting, even though his words are interrupted by a loud yawn. He hasn’t noticed how tired he’s gotten. Meanwhile, Alice next to him is already sound asleep, a soft snore passing her parted lips.

Oz watches her for a moment until he can feel Raven’s heavy gaze on himself.

“I’m … not sure about that yet”, Raven finally answers.

He puts his cup back on the tray and walks over to Alice, picking her up and carrying her to the enormous bed. Oz follows him with dragging steps, the tiredness suddenly heavy in his bones. He crawls into bed next to Alice and lets himself be covered with the blanket by Raven, whose eyes have gone soft and glistening.

“Hey Raven …”, Oz manages to mumble, his eyes already closing, “… what _is_ your real name?”

It’s as close to the right question as he can get.

Raven’s gentle fingers stroke a lose strand out of Oz’ face.

“You should sleep now.” Through Oz’ half-closed eyelids he looks infinitely sad. “I’ll tell you another time.”

_It’s the wrong answer._

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Oz takes a deep breath before he enters the dining room.

They are still at the Rainsworth mansion. After a night of uninterrupted sleep, Oz feels infinitely better than yesterday evening, but that also means that he had time to rationalise his behaviour – and to be embarrassed aout it. He really shouldn’t have lost his self-restraint like that. And not in front of Raven and Vincent Nightray. Even Lady Sharon saw him like that! It’s awfully pathetic.

(Surprisingly, he doesn’t mind Alice knowing about it.)

Which is why he asked the servant who showed him the way to the dining room if anyone else was already there – half hoping to avoid a confrontation with anyone for as long as possible, half hoping to just get this first awkward meeting over with. The servant has informed him that only Raven is currently up and already in the dining room, enjoying his morning cup of coffee. Somehow facing Raven alone doesn’t seem so bad, and with Alice still asleep there really was no way around it anyway.

As foretold, Raven is sitting at the table, his coffee in one hand, a cigarette between his lips and the newspaper on the table. He doesn’t seem to be reading, though, and instead just stares into the empty space. He turns his head in Oz’ direction by instinct, and smiles faintly.

“Good morning”, Raven greets him, but the nervous strain in his voice betrays his calm facade.

“Morning”, Oz greets back and sits down opposite of him, not quite sure what to do with himself now.

Raven seems to be avoiding his gaze, and so Oz fixes his own eyes on the table.

“Sorry I lost your hat”, he says.

Raven blinks and finally really _looks_ at Oz. “Don’t worry”, he brushes the apology away. “I’ll go looking for it later.”

This seems to be a rather drastic measure for a hat, but who is Oz to judge? Maybe that hat was an important keepsake of some sorts for Raven.

“Maybe Alice and I could come with you?”, Oz asks tentatively.

For a moment, Raven stays silent. He takes a drag on his cigarette and blows the smoke through his lips. “Of course. If you want to.”

There is no malice or annoyance in his voice, and Oz can finally breathe again. That’s one thing off his mind. One more thing to go.

He clears his throat, almost done searching for the right words.

“You said Gil was alright”, he repeats the only thing he knows about his friend. The only thing anyone has ever told him about Gil and the rest of his family. _They are alright_.

Raven looks up from the newspaper, his eyes cautiously clear. “Yes.”

“Does he know that … I’m out of the Abyss?”

A short nod. “He knows. The rest of your family does, too.”

“Ah.” Oz fidgets with his hands, knotting his fingers together and then tearing them apart again. “Do you think he’s … angry with me?”

Raven looks at him with wide eyes. “What?”, he sputters. “Why would you think that?”

“Well … Because … I thought ….”, Oz rambles. “I know I am technically not supposed to see him because it could be dangerous for him, since the Baskervilles are still after me. But … I thought that … maybe he would write to me? I don’t know, send me a note somehow? It just … seems like something Gil would do ….” He stops himself from spilling more of his own insecurities.

Raven’s face is ghostly pale. He swallows hard. “I … I guess?”, is all he can mumble.

It’s enough of an affirmation for Oz. He lets his forehead drop onto the table and buries his hands in his own head. “Aaaaahhhhh … it’s probably because I struck him down with that sword”, he sighs against the wood. “He must be so upset with me. I promised I would protect him and now I was the one who hurt him like that.”

“Or maybe …”, Raven starts softly, “… maybe he feels ashamed because he promised to protect you, but he couldn’t.”

Oz laughs weakly, the sound muffled by the table. “That sounds like something Gil would do, yes. Even though he really has no need to feel like that. I don’t blame him for … anything."

He grants Raven a couple of moments to get his expression under control again, then he raises his head slightly. Raven is looking at him with bright eyes, stunned into breathless silence.

“Say, Raven. The thing you wanted to get back … do you feel ashamed for losing it in the first place?”

Raven manages a shaky breath and then a jerky nod. “Yes, I … I do.”

_That’s what I thought. Because I know him. Just as he knows me._

Suddenly Oz knows the right question. The one he’s been searching for all this time. Or, well, it’s not _exactly_ the right question. But it’ll do. It’s not the right question for Oz to ask, but the one Raven has to answer.

“Raven … how long have I been in the Abyss?” He sits straight up again, mirroring the importance of this moment in his behaviour. “I mean … I know it can’t have been more than a couple of hours, maybe a day or two, but … something feels kinda _off_.”

Raven doesn’t answer immediately. His muscles tense and he pulls his hands into fists so hard his knuckles turn white.

“It’s … time flows differently in the Abyss. It’s … warped. _Distorted_ ”, he finally manages to say through gritted teeth and with a shaky voice. His eyes are wide with panic. He is so obviously in pain that Oz can barely handle it, but they both have to go through with this now.

“How long, Raven? Please, tell me”, Oz insists.

Raven lets out a low whimper, biting down on his lower lip hard. “It’s been … ten years.”

The words haven’t even fully left his mouth and he’s already going limp. He hangs his head and avoids Oz’ gaze again, his shoulders slouched forward and pain visible in every fibre of his being.

Oz breathes through the shock. _Ten years …_ It makes sense. It was the missing piece he needed to be sure. To be absolutely certain of what he’s been slowly deducting over the past couple of days.

“Then you are … your real name is … you are Gil, aren’t you? Raven?”

Raven – _Gilbert_ – looks up and looks at Oz and he doesn’t have to say it. It’s written everywhere. In the tears that are so, so close to overflowing; in the lip he keeps biting; in his nose, his cheeks; his chin; his hair; his whole hopeless expression.

It’s painful to watch him getting stripped off of all his protection, because that’s what it was, this carefully woven web of half-lies and untold truths – a shield.

“Yes”, he sobs finally.

“Then what are you doing still sitting there?”, Oz demands, his voice even.

Gilbert’s eyes instantly fill up with panic and desperation and somehow resignation, too.

“Aren’t you going to hug me?”, Oz encourages him softly.

Gilbert stares at him with a suddenly blank expression. “Hug you?”, he repeats. “I … I’m not … a hugging person!”, he protests faintly, although there’s hope spreading on his face, betraying the distance he still clings to.

“I would have hugged Gil”, Oz keeps on pushing mercilessly. “If I’d met him in a couple of days or weeks or whenever this was all over, I would have totally hugged him.”

Gil swallows, and then he _blushes_. He stands up and walks over slowly, his movements stiff and cautious, as if he expects this moment to dissolve into a dream with every next step. When he’s reached Oz’ chair, Oz stands up himself and just looks at Raven. Under Oz’ steady gaze Gil reaches down and simply wraps his arms around Oz in an awkward, uncomfortable hug.

Oz closes his eyes. Raven smells faintly like cold smoke and tobacco, and faintly like coffee and underneath it all like _Gil_. Gently, Oz wraps his arms around broad shoulders and an even broader back, and Gil has gotten _so tall_. His fingers find black curls and he tugs at them playfully, relishing in the familiarity of it all.

Gilbert draws in a shaky breath, and shatters. _So he’s still a crybaby._

After Gil has calmed down a bit, after he is no longer heaving up sobs and incoherent apologies, Oz lets go of him with a last pat on his back. He looks at him for the first time, _really_ looks at him, at his friend and servant who’s spent ten years trying to bring him back.

He slowly walks around Gilbert and studies him carefully, until his servant blushes even harder. “Uhm … Oz … what are you doing?”

“Looking at you properly, of course. I want to see how much you’ve changed”, Oz replies casually and pokes at Gil’s left side. Gil squirms under his touch and Oz grins. _Still_ _teasable_.

Gilbert gets more and more nervous the longer Oz studies him. It shows in the way his lips twitch and his nose scrunches up, just like it used to. But still … there’s an undeniable melancholy to Gilbert now.

_He’s grown up so grumpy and sad and angry. Is that my fault?_

“You’re too tall!”, Oz finally says and closes his assessment. He plants himself in front of Gil and crosses his hands in front of his chest.

Gil stares at him with an open mouth. “I … sorry?”

Oz nods with mock graveness. “Apology accepted.” Then he softens his stance and tugs at Gilbert’s scarf. “… You’re still you.”

Gil lets out a long breath, and smiles. “I’m still me.”

“And … your forever?” Oz can’t quite look him in the eyes, but he feels Gil’s big hand ruffling through his hair, the gesture finally devoid of all hesitance and doubts.

“I still – ”

“Huh? What’s going on in here?” Alice stands in the doorway, hands akimbo and hunger in her eyes. “Where’s the food?”

Gilbert tenses immediately, startled by the interruption but also embarrassed that this private moment suddenly has a spectator. Oz tugs at his scarf again and smiles, then he turns to Alice without letting go of Gilbert.

“Alice, there’s someone I want you to meet.”


End file.
